Intimacy
by organized disorder
Summary: Premovie. IronhidexChromia, OptimusxElita. Intimacy is described as a close personal relationship. With these lovers, different as night and day, what are their relationships like in the quiet moments? Chapter 8: How does a mech say he belongs to a femme?
1. Indulgence

AN: Twoshot fic. First chapter Ironhide/Chromia, second chapter Optimus/Elita. An attempt to contrast their relationhips...and yes, yes, _Sparks and Plasma_ is getting updated. Look for an update midnight Saturday.

* * *

_**Indulgence**_

A smile crossed Chromia's face as she removed the gun from the box. Purring in approval, she ran a finger over the sleek metal, testing the grip and weight. Gripping it, she aimed at an imaginary target.

"Hm. Not bad." Then she purred again as a pair of black hands appeared on the silver-blue of her frame, pulling her back to nestle snugly in a warm embrace. "No, not bad at all."

"Do you like?" Ironhide rumbled. "I made it especially for you."

"Where did you get my hand size?"

"I have a friend who's good at collecting information." The weapons specialist replied. He owed Mirage several cubes of vintage high-grade, but there was no need to reveal that. "After that, I did a little research…" Here he wrapped his arms fully around Chromia, marveling at how he could completely encircle her waist. "You needed something that was light enough for you to handle in addition to inflicting a good amount of damage on your…prey, so to speak."

"Plasma or live rounds?"

"Live. Tirithum bullets, with armor-piercing tips." Chromia raised an optic ridge.

"Oh really?" She asked.

"Live rounds may be outdated, but they're still useful as Pit and a good fallback when your energy weapons run dry." Ironhide rumbled. Daring, he ran a hand lightly over the silver-blue femme's midsection, smirking when he was rewarded with an elbow into his chassis.

"Just because you give me a useful gift doesn't mean you get to have your way." Chromia scolded, reluctantly backing away from that warm frame-and the intoxicating presence of having Ironhide's spark so very _close_ to hers. Then she bit back a giggle as a hand spun her around and she found herself being pressed into the desk. The Autobot weapons specialist all but loomed over her.

"You know, you've been quite the tease ever since we met." He rumbled. "Your spark wants mine, and my spark wants yours. So why this charade?"

"Like I said." Chromia purred in return. "You have to earn me. Don't worry; you're well on your way…" Unable to resist the temptation, she slowly started to run a finger along her intended's chestplates, watching as Ironhide shuttered his optics. "These things…have to be done properly. We can't just go run into a room someplace and settle the matter." Then she bit back a crack of laughter as Ironhide started to move away, not stopping until there was a good several feet in-between him and Chromia.

"You would drive any mech insane." He rumbled.

"I don't want just any mech." Chromia replied, a smile on her faceplates. "The only mech I want is you-ah ah!" She pointed her newly acquired weapon at Ironhide as he started to step forward. "No."

"Yes."

"You're about to lose your very high standing in my affections right now-which means you'll only have to wait longer." The femme answered, her optics sparkling with mischief. "And I really don't want to shoot you…" Her spark sang, calling out to Ironhide's, creating frequencies that could only be used by them. The black mech growled-his spark was answering to hers-Primus fraggit, this was pure torture. He was used to getting what he wanted-immediately, and the waiting game Chromia insisted on playing was testing the limits of his patience.

"You do know once I get my hands on you-" The rest of the Cybertronian made the silver-blue femme smile even more.

"How romantic." She said, stepping away from the desk. That was one of the things she loved about Ironhide. He didn't see the need for meaningless pratter and non-useful gifts, no; he got straight to the point and was brutally honest. "Have I told you I so very much appreciate your candor?"

"Have I told you that you might as well stop the games-I'm going to have you anyway?" Ironhide replied. "This whole matter would have been settled several lunar cycles ago if you'd simply said yes to my proposal."

"But then we wouldn't be having so much fun!" Chromia protested, stepping away.

"There is no we in this, femme." The black mech rumbled, starting to move forward. "There is only you, and your twisted friends. I know Elita's helping you torture me."

"You stop that right now! Elita is doing nothing of the sort!" Pretending to be miffed, Chromia turned her back, intending to stalk away when a pair of black arms wrapped back around her waist. Ironhide pulled her into his frame once more, reveling in how perfectly she fit against him.

"Got you."

"You wish." Chromia answered, but she shuttered her optics and sagged slightly into Ironhide's warm embrace, frame relaxing-her spark and CPU soaking up as much of the black mech's presence as possible. Here was someplace she could finally let her guard down-to be free of the burdens of being a warrior, if just only for a little while. Nothing mattered save for the press of Ironhide's body into hers, the tantalizing presence of his spark, his strong and reassuring presence soothing her… The feel of her intended sparkmate's hands sweeping over her frame once again made Chromia hiss in delight, snuggling even more into Ironhide's body.

"I don't think I said you could do that."

"So stop me." Ironhide rumbled, his hands running over and pressing into sore sections of Chromia's frame, releasing the tensions gathered in the nooks and crannies. "You're so tense…you should take a couple days off…relax someplace."

"With you?" Chromia asked.

"Preferably." Was the softly-growled answer into an audio receptor. "In fact, we could start right now."

"Mmm. How about you finish this first, and then we'll see."

"How about you give me a promise you'll come though on?" Came the counter. A smile crossed Chromia's faceplates, and she turned around to wrap her arms around Ironhide.

"If you're very good…" She murmured, placing her hands directly over the black mech's spark. "Maybe we could be partnered together for the next set of missions."

"Or we could frag the missions and be partnered for life." Ironhide replied, his spark all but dancing in its chamber at the feel of Chromia's hands on his chest. Lifting her up so that their foreplates touched, he enjoyed the pull of the femme's spark to his. Primus, this was Pit on his good intentions…he honestly didn't know how much more he could take of this.

"Patience love-that'll come in good time." Chromia whispered.

"I don't do patience very well, femme."

"Well, you're just going to have to learn how to do it. And don't you dare say anything else-I know what was going to come out of your mouth next." Sighing, Chromia settled in against Ironhide's chest, letting the now-familiar peace steal over her again. Here, there was no war; no Decepticons…just the soothing pulse of her beloved's spark.

And for right now…it was enough. For the both of them.


	2. Maturity

AN: Last chapter, Optimus/Elita. I had wanted this to be a little more romantic than how it was-but then I decided showing them in a considerably more mature relationship might work...I guess. Behold my attempt to be deep!

* * *

**_Maturity_**

Optimus shifted position slightly on the recharge berth, watching as Elita stretched out and rolled onto her front. A smile crossing his faceplates, he swept one hand up her back, the smile only widening as the femme stretched and started to purr.

"Mmhmm."

"Feeling better?"

"A lot more if you'd just put those-aahh." Elita shuttered her optics in delight as Optimus's hands moved expertly across her back, finding and massaging out all the kinks stress and work had created. "Aahh…"

"Wasn't moving in a very good idea?" Her intended rumbled near one of her audios.

"Mmm. I still need to finish unpacking." Elita murmured in reply. "I should really do that…"

"Don't. You're exhausted from that last mission, it can wait." Optimus said. Enjoying the feel of his sparkmate, he abandoned the impromptu massage and settled for pulling Elita as close to his frame as possible. She fit so perfectly into him-and was so nice and warm…

"I'm not a pillow!" Elita protested as Optimus curled up his frame around hers.

"No, you're better." The Autobot leader rumbled. "You're so much better than a pillow…" Elita wriggled out of her bonded's grip to sit up-only to squeak in surprise as Optimus followed, happily sprawling out in her lap and resting her head on her chest chassis.

"What the-you're acting like a sparkling!"

"But I like being with you like this." Optimus replied, youngling-like. The rose-colored femme blew out a breath, one hand automatically coming up to caress one of the mech's audio receptors.

"I let you get away with too much." She murmured as a secret thrill ran though her. Here, in their quarters like this she felt completely safe and protected. This was their haven, their place away from the stresses of work and the war. In here, she could allow herself the luxury of _feeling_-of not having to be Elita-One, Commander of the Femme Division-and Optimus wasn't Prime, leader of all the Autobot forces and former co-ruler of Cybertron. Her spark sang softly, harmonizing with Optimus's own on private frequencies. And recently, the thought had occurred to her that they could be _so_ much _more _sooner, if they wanted…

"Would you really want me as your sparkmate, love?" She murmured. "I'm not what you would call…a sensitive femme…"

"You're perfect." Optimus rumbled, looking up at her. "Don't you start. I wanted an equal-and I found one."

"But you're-"

"My being Prime has nothing to do with this. I'm a mech who found the femme he loves and wants her to be his bonded. Period." His hands started to draw idle patterns on Elita's armor. "But I don't want to pressure you into it-or rush you. Besides…" His breath was warm as he slowly started to run his hands over the femme's frame. "Delayed gratification has its rewards, wouldn't you agree?"

"If you notice, Chromia's trying to teach Ironhide that concept and failing." Elita commented. Optimus issued a bark of laughter, rolling over onto his back.

"He's just getting desperate, that's all." He chuckled. "Chromia's not the patient type either, love." Then a grin appeared on his faceplates as Elita rolled over on top of him.

"You wouldn't happen to have participated in that little bet Smokescreen has going on about them, did you?"

"…The one about Chromia giving up and jumping him or the one about Ironhide kidnapping her to get her away from you and the other femmes? Ow!" Optimus winced as Elita smacked him on the chest.

"That's not nice." She rebuked. Then her optics narrowed as a hand ghosted past her interface panel. "No. You've already had me for the evening. Which is more than Ironhide can say for Chromia." Optimus snorted again.

"Don't be mean." He said, playfully pouting.

"I should have been like Chromia and made you wait." Elita said, but a hint of a smile was flittering across her faceplates. "But this does have its advantages."

"Would one of them be going 'ha ha, I don't have the problems you have with your mech' in front of Chromia?"

"I don't know." Elita answered saucily. "Do I…have to train you?"

"Considering that I would be content to be your personal slave…" Optimus answered with youngling-like mischief in his optics.

"My own personal slave?" Elita repeated, trailing a finger across his chest chassis. "Hmm. Does that mean you'll do anything I'll say?"

"You have my spark." Optimus said quietly, turning serious. "You're my single reason for everything now-my world would be nothing without you in it." He quietly rested a hand on Elita's abdomen, noting the graceful curves of her frame where he was all angles and protrusions. "Not even me admitting my love-or showing you-could ever truly convey how I feel. I'd gladly do anything you said-just as long as I was close to you and could watch over you."

"Optimus…" Elita murmured, her spark aching at those words. Primus, how he needed someone! And she wanted to be that someone-to soothe his fears, ease his frustrations-give him all the love he deserved and then some. He was hers, her spark was very insistent on that. But to be mate to the Prime…

_It wouldn't be any different if he wasn't the Autobot leader and I wasn't in charge of the femmes...or would it? _She wanted the sparkbond-but in this time of war, something that had once been sacred was now a weakness. She would feel everything Optimus felt, and if he died, she would not be long after. If that wasn't an invitation to the Decepticons, she didn't know what was.

_Don't think about it. _It was still too early in the relationship-even though she knew how it was going to end. One orn she would come out of recharge-not as a solitary spark, but exactly one-half of a unit-something _more. _She would have Optimus's spark, and he hers. Sighing, she stretched out full over her mate, moving only slightly as Optimus shifted position to sit up, a small smile crossing his face as he used his fingers to massage her audio receptors.

"Everything will be alright." He murmured. "My love, don't be afraid…please. " Elita smiled.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I just don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Nothing will." Optimus assured her. "Get some rest, Elita. I know you have the orn off tomorrow but I'd feel better knowing you had a decent night's recharge." The femme smiled, tilting her head so she could look her mech in the optic.

"I'll recharge…if you will too."

"Deal." Optimus said, immediately slinking down to lie on the berth, one hand reaching out to shut off the light nearby. Elita giggled at the enthusiasm, happily moving to curl up into the red and blue mech's frame, purring as he draped one arm around her. Purring, she shuttered her optics, letting her CPU gradually shut down-into peaceful oblivion with Optimus, to push aside all doubts and just enjoy the peace that was creeping though her.


	3. Tease

AN: Alright, due to the requests of several friends, I'm loosely continuing this. This'll be just drabbles, most of them set pre-AllSpark launch, updated whenever inspiriation bites me.

As for this chapter-implied smut warning and minor promotion of alcohol warning.

* * *

**_Tease_**

Primus, she was in heaven. Or as close to heaven as she could possibly get on Cybertron-Chromia revved eagerly, pressing herself as close to Ironhide as possible. A moan escaped her vocalizer as Ironhide nipped at her neck, fingers digging into his black armor.

"You like to get to the point quickly, don't you?" She rasped out, shivering as a pair of hands ran over her, finding every single sensitive spot and pressing on them.

"I thought that was one of the things you liked about me." Ironhide rumbled.

"When it comes to this sort of thing, I don't think speed is a highly-rated quality."

"Comments like that…" Here Chromia felt her optics nearly roll back in her head as Ironhide's dental plates found a sensitive tube on her shoulder and gently bit in. "Encourage me for when I finally get you all alone, to take my own…sweet…_**time**_."

"Do that and I assure you that you'll find yourself right back at square one!" Chromia hissed. Ironhide pulled back, a smirk on his faceplates.

"Square one?" He rumbled. "Now really…would you want me to be back at square one after this?"

"Wait-" Chromia started to squeak out, but it was too late, for Ironhide had pulled her flush to his frame and had silenced her with a kiss. At the same time his spark reached out for hers on a private frequency, and the femme felt herself being _pulled_ into the burning presence that was Ironhide. Even though it was at a remove, she could feel all the love and devotion the black mech possessed solely for her-lust/longing-all this and more Chromia felt, and she shuddered from the intensity. Tearing her mouthplate away from his, she pressed herself eagerly against him.

_Oh Primus, why was I making him wait?! _Her spark was screaming in anticipation-it wanted Ironhide's own _**now**._ No ifs, buts, or excuses! The black mech growled, his own spark greedy for its mate.

"Yes or no." He rumbled. "Speak now, Chromia." His hand swept over her front, coming to rest on her chest chassis. He could feel the pulse of her spark underneath it, a siren song that was addicting-his own spark was all but jumping out of his chest. "Yes or no?!" He found a cluster of sensitive wires, and Chromia nearly screamed.

"Oh yes-" She shuddered with delight. "Ironhide, yes, yes…" She felt him rev in excitement, just a few breems and she'd have everything she'd ever wanted…

Wait.

What the Pit?! She was about to sparkbond with him-_in a closet_ for Primus's sake! There was a reason why she didn't want to do this yet! Trying to force her processor out of the lust-induced fog, she started to push against him.

"Ironhide, wait." She bit back a moan as he attacked her neck again, those wickedly clever hands starting to go underneath her armor and finding all the perfect spots. "Ironhide, no! Stop!" This command was followed by as much force as she could generate on their bond. "Stop it!" Another growl was her answer, and then some breathing room as Ironhide pulled back.

"What?!" He snapped, clearly displeased with the new turn of events.

"We can't do this." Chromia answered, dragging in air though her vents.

"The Pit we can't." Ironhide said, reaching for her again. The silver-blue femme smacked his hands away.

"No!"

"You were just begging me to!"

"Well, I changed my mind!" Chromia snapped. Then she pressed herself into the wall as Ironhide loomed over her, his optics narrowing into slits.

"And may I ask…why?" He whispered. Chromia had to resist the urge to throw herself on top of him, he was so very large and dominating and potentially _hers…_

"Sparklings." She squeaked out.

"Sparklings." Ironhide repeated.

"Yes." Chromia parroted, trying to come up with a better reason. "We could…well…you know…"

"We could what, Chromia?"

"If we sparkbonded, the next thing the both of us know, we could be waking up to some little spark floating next to us the orn after!" It was weak and stupid and Chromia regretted it the moment it left her vocalizer. Yet she couldn't take them back, and silence filled the air between them.

_Oh Primus…_ "Ironhide-" But it was too late, Ironhide pulled away and left, the closet door hissing open and closed. "Ironhide!" Her spark cried out in loss and she sank to the floor. _Oh you idiot! Now you've gone and done it!_

* * *

He was getting tired of it. Ironhide scowled at his glass of High-Grade, as if the pink liquid could provide him with answers.

_What the Pit did I do to deserve this? _He wanted Chromia. He loved her, and he would gladly bet his cannons that she felt the same way. But all the damn games…in the beginning, they were fun. He didn't mind matching wits, words, weapons-he'd expect nothing less from his sparkmate, he wanted somebody who could raise Pit with him and vice versa. But now…

_Does she think I'm not good enough? And then this-gives me a bunch of slag about sparklings!_ Though he had to admit-the idea of a little one was appealing. Picking up his glass, he downed the fluid, slamming it back down on the bar and waiting for a refill.

_A sparkling would be nice. _Chromia would be a perfect mother…but that train of thought led him back to the disaster in the closet, and Ironhide scowled.

"Where's the damn Energon?!" He barked. Then he lifted one optic ridge as pink goodness was poured into the glass.

"Right here." Ratchet answered, sitting next to the black mech. "You look like you need it too." Ironhide grunted in reply, reaching for the glass and downing the liquid again. "Problems in paradise?"

"Stay the frag out of it, medic."

"Tell that to your cooling system. It set off my alarms from the doorway." Ratchet retorted as he set the bottle of High-Grade down on the bar. Ironhide didn't say anything, but grumpily considered his glass.

"I'm tired of the games." He finally rumbled. "There's…there's only so much a mech can handle, you know?"

"What happened?" The yellow mech asked, sensing there was more to this particular round of drinking that met the optic.

"Don't want to talk about it." Ironhide growled, reaching over for the bottle. Ratchet considered his friend as he started to pour the Energon into his glass.He could be annoying and get the story out of Ironhide-but that would more than likely result in a bar fight and a night in the brig-something that the black mech really didn't need currently.

_Or I can let him get overenergized-**really** overenergized, get the story out of him, and then drag his drunk aft back to his berth and let him sleep it off. _Liking the second option, Ratchet nodded to himself, activing his comm-link.

"Wheeljack? Do me a favor-bring the stash that's in your office supply locker. Got somebody who needs it more than us right now."


	4. Newlyweds

AN: Short and sweet for this chapter. Also, by the time I got this done, I realized I'd messed up slightly-even though this story is supposed to be a series of oneshots on Ironhide/Chromia and Optimus/Elita. So let's just say...the chapter title says it all.

Sparks WAS supposed to be updated last night, but I ran into a writer's block for the rest of the chapter. I'll punch though it and have it up late tonight. Also, the term 'energon goody' is not mine, it belongs to Melora Maxwell.

* * *

**_Newlyweds_**

"Well? Do you want one?" To this Optimus had no answer, idly tracing the curves of Elita's frame with one finger.

"I would like one." He rumbled finally. "But it would be up to you, my love." He knew the rose-colored femme still harbored doubts about them. Mate to the Prime was one thing, but sparklings? Elita didn't say anything, but snuggled into the red and blue mech's side.

_A little one would be nice..._ It would be a dream come true, and Optimus had all the makings of a wonderful father. She could easily see the picture in her CPU, maybe a little mech or a femme, curled up in his arms.

"I want one too." She said quietly, pushing herself up to look into the Autobot leader's faceplates. "But…when we're at peace. I don't want to bring any sparkling into a war-torn world." Optimus nodded, understanding where she was coming from. "I want him or her to be safe…to not have to worry if we're ever going to come back from a battle…" Elita trailed off. Thankfully Optimus was quick to pick up the trail.

"Perhaps it's too early for us to speak of this." He said, leaning back. "We still haven't gotten to know each other better yet." One hand found a groove in rose-colored armor, and the femme bit back a purr of delight as those clever fingers started to gently dig in.

"I have no problems with that." She murmured, leaning into that wonderful hand. One small foot poked at one of Optimus's large legs. "Where are they?" The mech smirked at this, holding up a small box with the other hand.

"These?"

"Give me!" Elita reached over and snatched the box away, a smile crossing her faceplates as she saw the Energon goodies tucked inside. "Greedy. You gave these to me, remember?"

"But sharing is caring…" Optimus rumbled, wrapping his arms around the femme's waist and pulling her close. Elita turned her head to look over her shoulder, a small smirk crossing her face.

"Well now, if you're very good…you can have one."

"I would prefer the whole package." Was the response. "Everything…inside and out."

"Innuendo will not get you anything." Elita countered, delicately nibbling on a goody.

"Then what would get me everything?" Optimus breathed, enjoying the feel of his beloved femme against his frame. Despite the newness of their bond, he felt as if they'd been joined like this forever.

"Patience is a virtue, Optimus."

"Not really." The mech grumbled, resting his chin on Elita's right shoulder, looking longingly at the box. "Please, Elita?"

"Alright. Just one." Ignoring the 'yes!' from the red and blue mech, Elita carefully turned around with the promised treat. But instead of offering to Optimus, she delicately placed it in-between her dental plates before leaning in to kiss her mate. Breaking away, she giggled at the look on his face.

"Was it good for you too?"

"I think you've been hanging around Chromia too much." Optimus rumbled, pulling Elita closer, resulting in a surprised squeak coming from the rose-colored femme. "Perhaps some time away from her will do you good."

"You already have me for the next several orns, my love." Elita whispered, snuggling in as close as she could. "And just maybe I had a couple tricks of my own." A small smile crossed her faceplates as she wrapped her arms around Optimus's shoulders. "Just maybe…I'm a little wilder than Chromia."

"Really?" Optimus asked, feeling his pump quicken in excitement. Perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea to be forced on this little vacation after all. He and Elita had bonded, but the two had planned to carry on with work as usual, leaving only the nights for themselves…

Until Ratchet and the others had interfered. Even now the Autobot leader couldn't figure out just _how_ the news had gotten out he and Elita had officially bonded. But right now-he really didn't have any complaints.

"Can I have another goody?" He whispered, blue optics sparkling with mischief.

"I don't know…" Elita said enticingly. "Haven't you had enough already?"

"But you can't just stop at one…" Optimus answered, nuzzling her neck. "And I rarely get to have anything sweet."

"Well, you have me now." Elita purred, her fingers gently ghosting over his audio receptors. "Uninterrupted, I might add. And didn't you say once you had a…number of things you would like to do if we were ever alone like this?"

"Yes, I believe so." Optimus murmured in reply. "No time like the present, after all…"


	5. Satisfaction

AN: Despite this update, I am now debating if I should remove this fic or not.

I don't own Transformers, but the ideas in here are mine. Use them without permission in anyway and Frenzy will visit your computer while you are sleeping.

* * *

**_Satisfaction_**

It had been at least two lunar cycles since the incident in the storage closet, Chromia mused sadly. Ever since then, Ironhide hadn't wanted anything to do with her, which _hurt_.

_I'm an idiot, that's what I am! _No doubt that Ironhide thought she had just been playing with him. _Curse my being cautious-I didn't care if we did it in the clos…well, okay. For __**that**__, a berth would have been a good idea. Anything else, open season. _She sighed, putting her head on the desk. It didn't help the situation that she was…antsy, her spark aching for anything with Ironhide.

_I just wanted to see who he was. _Despite the fact that Ironhide was so very much her sparkmate, Chromia was first and foremost part of a very small population-femmes made up at least 30 percent of Cybertron's numbers. Because of their almost-rarity, they were the ones who chose their partners, bonded or not, and held authority in the family units. And relationships being relationships and mechs being mechs…there was the good, the bad, and the ugly. Thus Chromia's 'delay' of her relationship with Ironhide.

_He's only impatient and grumpy. _Faults that she loved dearly about him…unwilling to chase her thoughts about her CPU anymore, Chromia stood up. Time for her to find her mech and fix this mess.

_If he doesn't want to listen, then I'll make him!_

* * *

Ironhide wasn't hard to locate. When a search revealed that he wasn't in any of the firing ranges, Chromia knew that there would only be one other place the black mech would go to.

_Primus, please let me not have messed this up beyond repair, please… _Steeling herself, the dark blue femme entered the Autobot armory, heading for Ironhide's office. Finding the door unlocked, she slipped in, making sure to lock it behind her. She'd provided enough gossip fodder for Iacon, thank you very much. Her optics lifted, landing on the heavily-armored black form, and her spark fluttered.

_Oh Ironhide…_ He had his back turned, stripping a rifle down and cleaning its parts. His movements betrayed his expertise and experience, he was just absolutely perfect. Chromia licked her lips, fighting back the urge to just rush forward and throw herself into that black mass…to run her fingers over and under…

"Ironhide?" She said At the sound of her voice the weapons specialist stilled, and then turned his head slightly.

"What do you want?" He growled, menace in his tone. Chromia inwardly cringed, her spark roiling in despair.

"I just wanted to talk to you." She ventured, wiling herself not to give in.

"So talk. Then leave." Ironhide rumbled, turning his attention back to the rifle. Then he stiffened again as a pair of dark-blue arms slid around his chest. "Get your hands off me."

"Ironhide…" Chromia whispered.

"Get them off, femme."

"Not so long ago you wanted me to put them on you." The femme ventured. Then she found herself grasping air as the black mech muscled away from her. "Ironhide, stop being a stubborn aft! I need to talk to you!"

"Go away." The flat tone made Chromia's spark cringe. "I don't want anything to do with you."

"That's a lie!" The femme cried passionately. "Ironhide, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you-I just didn't want us making a mistake!" Then she found herself stepping backwards as the black mech whirled about with a snarl.

"Mistake?! Torturing my feelings, my _spark-_that's a mistake to you?!"

"Will you just listen to me?!" Chromia cried. "I just wanted to see…you! How you were! I can't just go off and give my spark to you, no matter how badly I want to-aaah!!" For here Ironhide had grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her close to him.

"And why not?!" He challenged, his optics glittering. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you, rip _mine_ out and present it in a box?!" The femme dragged in a shaky breath of air though her vents, trying to stem the rising tide of lust inside of her.

"You know, you don't act like how a proper sparkmate should!" She bit out, her optics flashing. "You're ruder than Ratchet-which is _saying _something, even for him-all you've done ever since we've met is try to get your hands under my armor-"

"Make your spark stop singing to mine and then we'll see." Ironhide snarled. "I hear it every single breem-driving me crazy! And it's not as if you've been trying to get your hands on mine, femme!" In fact it was grating on him now-the sweet siren call of her spark, begging for his, betraying Chromia's true intentions. "Primus, why are you lying to yourself?! To me?!"

"I'm not lying!!" Chroma shrieked. It was becoming harder and harder to think straight now, not with the lust taking over and Ironhide so tantalizingly close… Then she gasped as she was pushed roughly again, the weapons specialist turning his back to her.

"Go away. Play your little games with some other mech." To this Chromia had no response, simply staring at Ironhide for for several breems. Rage snaked though her, how dare he turn his back on her without giving her a chance to explain properly? And then just telling her to go to some other bot…like she was a…

Ironhide had no warning save for the enraged scream that suddenly erupted from behind his back. Before he could turn around he found himself being tackled to the ground, one _very_ angry femme on his back.

"Aaah! Get off!" Reaching behind him, he was able to get enough leverage to roll onto his back-which was a bad idea, because then he found himself flying though the air and kissing the floor thanks to a well placed shove from a pair of legs. "Ooommpph!" Behind him, Chromia rolled to her feet, optics glittering with malice. She'd kill him, and then take something as a trophy-ah! His interface line, that would be perfect!

"See if you're going to be able to do anything when I'm done with you!" She snarled, then uttered a scream as one black leg slammed into hers, sending her down to the floor. Ironhide was quick to lunge on top of her and pin her, but Chromia quickly used her size to her advantage, slipping out of the hold and renewing her attack on the black mech. This continued for a while-finally ending when Ironhide wrestled Chromia to a wall, using everything to keep the femme pinned in.

"What is your problem?!" He snarled.

"What's my problem? You! That's the problem, _**you**_!" Chromia screeched. Her blue optics glared into Ironhide's own, chest heaving as her vents struggled to drag in cool air to settle her systems. The physical proximity was exciting her, and she could hear Ironhide's spark-all but begging shamelessly for her own. She could see he was just as riled up as her, his optics glittering in the darkness of his face, the whine of his systems as they struggled to cool down, his struggle to keep control…

Then it broke as they were suddenly locked in a kiss, lunar cycles of enforced celibacy breaking. Chromia fought eagerly to press herself as deeply as possible into Ironhide's black frame, never breaking that wonderful kiss-trying to dive into all that heat, passion, strength… She bit back a moan as Ironhide broke off the kiss to attack her neck, wriggling eagerly to allow him better access. Her own hands went roaming, diving under black armor and finding sensitive wires to play with-making Ironhide tremble under her touch. The black mech growled, pressing her into the wall even further, as if he wanted to draw her into himself.

"This had better not be another game, Chromia." He got out harshly, burying his hands under her midsection and watching her squirm in delight. The femme didn't reply, save for reaching out and pulling his faceplate close to hers.

"Does it look like I'm playing now?!" She hissed.

"I wouldn't know-you've been begging me for this before and then you just stop!" Ironhide bit out in reply, daring to free one hand and place it squarely on Chromia's midsection, just above where the femme wanted it the most. Then his optics crossed as one slender hand twisted a set of sensitive wires under his armor. Chromia pressed herself in even closer, hooking her legs about his waist.

"Then why don't you just take what you want, love?" She purred. "I know if you don't get your aft moving, I'll be taking what _I_ want!" This statement was punctuated with a bite to Ironhide's neck, and then Chromia felt herself suddenly move-the sound of weapons clattering to the ground as the black mech roughly cleared the desk.

* * *

**_Several joors later_**

Prowl frowned, checking the chronometer.

"Where's Ironhide? He should have been here for the start of his shift by now." He said, looking at the duty schedule in front of him.

"Well, he's in his quarters right now." Jazz helpfully provided, having ran a search for Ironhide's locator beacon. "He probably forget, just give him a buzz." The black-and-white nodded, activating a comm channel.

"Prowl to Ironhide, come in." Silence. "Ironhide, it's Prowl, you were supposed to start your shift up here 10 breems ago." The sound of something rustling, and then the link on the other side going active.

_Give me….uhh…_ A strangled moan came though, causing every single mech in the command center to stop cold. Then another voice came though, unmistakably female…and belonging to _**Chromia.**_

_He's busy, Prowl. Call back later. _

Red Alert's processor went _bzzzt!_

A grin the size of one of Cybertron's moons had appeared on Jazz's face, and he was struggling to keep his composure.

Prowl was staring at the console as if was about to bite him, a look that could only be described by the human emoticon of o.O and the phrase of 'WTF' on his faceplates.

Poor Bluestreak's optics had become very, very big.

Blaster-like Jazz, was struggling to keep it together…but desperate snickers were starting to break though.

And then as to break the spell, the mighty Optimus Prime could be heard bellowing for Smokescreen.

* * *

Unaware of the commotion that was breaking out several floors above them, Ironhide happily reached out and gently pulled Chromia closer to him, the femme snuggling into his frame with a purr of pleasure.

"If those were your fears, why didn't you tell me before?" He rumbled. "I don't like waiting…but for you, I'd wait forever." Chromia shuttered her optics.

"I'm sorry…I guess I did make a mess of things." Her hand ghosted over Ironhide's interface port. "All of this…it's still new to me. I wanted to make sure everything would be right before we shared our sparks."

"I still would prefer if you gave me your spark now." Ironhide rumbled. "But for you…I'll try my hardest to be patient. However…" Here he rolled over, effectively trapping Chromia beneath him. "You are going to be here on a regular basis. If I had my way, you would be here _permanently._" The dark-blue femme smirked, running a hand over his back.

"Like me on your berth, huh?"

"You have no idea."


	6. Enough

AN: Inspiration for this chapter came from illmatar's picture _That's Enough_ (also the chapter name) on DeviantART. I want to thank her for allowing me to use it as a reference, go check it out!

Also- TF is not mine, but steal any of the ideas in here without permission and Frenzy breaks your computer.

* * *

**_Enough_**

Elita smiled as she leaned against the doorframe of Optimus's office. Her intended was hard at work, slowly working though piles of datapads on his desk. He'd been at it all orn… The femme smiled, slowly flexing her fingers.

_Let's see if I can't get him to relax. _

"Hey." She began. At the sound of her voice, Optimus lifted his head. "Whatcha doing?"

"Reports." The Autobot leader replied, his spark lifting at his beloved's presence. "I don't know how this got so backlogged, but…"

"You can't even take a break?" Elita asked.

"Sorry. Expect me to be…oooohhhhhhh." For Elita had suddenly moved behind his chair and was slowly massaging an audio receptor. The Autobot leader shivered in pleasure, vainly trying to resist the urge to just lean back and enjoy.

"Aaah…Elita…"

"I would say you've done enough for the orn." Elita purred, her left hand coming up to rest on Optimus's helm while the right continued stroking the audio receptor. "All you've done over the past several orns is work…"

"I need…can't just leave all of this-" Then Optimus really did bite back a moan as that left hand slid to the other receptor, clever fingers slipping under armor and finding all those perfect spots to press. "Oh Primus…"

"Yes?" Elita purred. She was certain the slight blasphemy would be forgiven; Primus knew her mech would work straight into the scrap heap if given the chance.

"Elita…I have to…"

"Have to what, darling?" The Autobot leader leaned into his femme's touch, his optics slowly starting to shutter in delight. Elita smiled, enjoying the feel of Optimus's armor underneath her fingers. There was a thrill in watching a mech as powerful as he fall under her spell, just knowing that she had the ability to make him tremble with just one touch…

"I've been lonely, you know." She whispered, sliding her left hand back up to rub Optimus's helm. "It's just been me and our berth…all alone…" Then she smiled as a datapad slipped out of the red and blue mech's fingers, temptation proving too much to resist.

* * *

Mercifully, the halls had been empty as the two had hurried back to their quarters. The minute the doors had sealed shut behind them, Optimus had turned, fully intending to sweep his femme up in his arms, but…

"Over here, darling." Elita had stationed herself at the entrance to their room, a smug smile on her faceplates. Smiling, she watched as Optimus strode forward.

"You're acting rather playful tonight." The Autobot leader rumbled, embracing her. Then his optics crossed as Elita wriggled up, blowing gently on one of his audios.

"Take me to bed, and I'll show you just how playful I am." She purred. Then she bit back a giggle as she was lifted up into the air, Optimus rumbling against her frame. The red and blue mech was quick to set his lover down on the berth, but then suddenly found that he was sprawling face down, Elita straddling him atop his back.

"Aaahh! Elita, what are you…Ooohhhh." The sparkfelt moan had Elita smiling as she ran her fingers over Optimus's back. "Uuuuhhh..."

"You're not in the position to do anything, love." The rose-colored femme whispered as she leaned to speak into an audio. "Why don't you just lie down and let me take care of you?" With those words, slender fingers slipped under red and blue armor, finding the sensitive protoform beneath. Her reply was an almost-violent shudder and then the feel of that massive frame going completely limp, a muffled groan coming from a vocalizer. "I thought so." Smiling, Elita got to work, slowly massaging every surface and angle of Optimus's back, soothing battered wires and applying what pressure she could to slight dents.

_He's so tense. _Yes, this defiantly had been a good idea on her part, now her next plan would be to get Optimus to Hoist for a maintenance checkup. Right after she managed to get him to relax, of course.

"Feeling better?"

"Uuuuhhh." The groan had her giggling. "Oh Primus…that's wonderful…" Optimus sounded like he was halfway into recharge however. Elita smiled, pausing in her massage to press into her intended's back.

"Relax." She whispered, encircling Optimus's waist. "I'm here…just rest."

"But…what about you?" Optimus whispered back.

"I'm fine. It's you who needs the pampering now." The femme cooed. "Recharge, love. I'll be here tomorrow."

"Okay." Optimus replied, his recharge programs nearly online. Elita watched with satisfaction as he offlined, before slipping off his back and snuggling into her beloved's side. If anything he'd wake up the following orn feeling considerably better…and energized. Giggling at the anticipation, she activated her own recharge subroutines.


	7. Nativity

AN: Pillars of Creation- Google it :D

Also-I don't own TF.

Ideas in here however are mine-if you steal, Frenzy jacks up your computer.

* * *

**_Nativity_**

He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Sure, he'd seen stars being born-planets coming to life, even the Pillars of Creation. But none of them held a light to what was in front of him right now.

"Aww…look at you. So tiny…so perfect." The room was silent, save for the quiet sounds of sucking. "You're our little Avatar…look at you, with your little optics…your tiny fingers…" Ironhide didn't say anything, but simply stood in the doorframe, his optics never leaving the scene in front of him. 

_Primus…why? I don't deserve such blessings. _In front of him, Chromia was sitting on a window seat, cooing gently to a blanket in her arms. The sucking noise was coming from the blanket, within its' folds the tiny blue optics of their daughter peered out at the world. Currently however, her attention was fixed solely on the special bottle Perceptor had created, filled with pink liquidly goodness. Chromia felt her spark swell with love, so much that she felt she might burst.

"You're a pretty little 'bot." She cooed. "Oh, you're going to be so beautiful when you get older…with your pretty blue armor…" Nightfire only blinked, snuggling in even closer to her mother's spark. Deciding that she didn't want any more Energon, she spit out the tube and squeaked at Chromia. The silver-blue femme smiled, setting the bottle to the side and standing up.

"All full?" Her answer was another contented squeak. Nightfire wriggled in her blanket, clicking as Chromia gently lifted her up to lean against her chest chassis, left arm providing a resting place for her rear while her right hand gently supported the back of that tiny head.

"You're a dream come true, you know that?" Chromia whispered. "Your father and I wanted a sparkling for so long, but we couldn't have one…and now…" Nightfire snuggled even more into that soothing sparkpulse. "Your father and I love you very, very much. Never forget that." Ironhide watched, afraid to speak for the emotions that were stopping his vocalizer.

_They're so beautiful. _There seemed to be something almost…sacred about what he was watching...his mate and their daughter, reinforcing the close bonds that they would share for the rest of their lives. Even though Nightfire would eventually grow up-and the degree of separation would take place, she would still always be loved, be cherished. The black mech couldn't understand-what had he done to deserve such gifts? He hadn't even imagined that he would be one of the lucky few to have a sparkmate…he'd dreamed of a sparkling, but he had never thought…

"So cute." Happy squeaks had him coming out of his thoughts; Chromia had lifted Nightfire to optic level. The sparkling squealed in delight, tiny hands reaching out to pat her mother's faceplates. Chromia laughed softly, nuzzling her daughter.

"Shall we go and find your dada?" She crooned. Nightfire giggled. "You want your dada? Let's go find him…"

"I'm right here." Ironhide rumbled. Chromia looked up.

"Oh! How long have you been there?"

"Not long. Just watching you." The black mech responded. Hearing the familiar voice, Nightfire squealed, her tiny spark reaching out to Ironhide's own. Chromia smiled, cradling the sparkling close to her.

"Like what you see?" She gently teased. How long ago had it been-that a line like that would have been an invitation on her part to Ironhide for sparkbonding…was now a proud declaration of her ability as a creator?

"I like it a lot." Ironhide responded. "How is she?"

"Tired…she's had a big day." The silver-blue femme replied. Then her optics shuttered slightly in pleasure as two thick black arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a strong embrace. Pausing long enough to nuzzle the side of her neck, Ironhide gently rested his chin on her head, looking down at the tiny bundle of dark-blue wires. 

"She looks a little bit like you." He whispered.

"Really? I think she has your faceplate features…" Chromia whispered back. Nightfire looked up at her creators, clicking quietly. Feeling secure and safe, she returned back to snuggling into her mother's chest, soaking up all the love and devotion that it contained. The silver-blue femme smiled softly, gently stroking the sparkling's tiny head with her fingers. Then her grip threatened to go slack for several astro-seconds as a thick black hand slid up her front and placed itself squarely over her spark chamber. Chromia hissed in pleasure, but then winced as her spark complained-it wanted Ironhide's own, but it wasn't ready yet.

"Ironhide…not in front of the sparkling…" She moaned softly. Then a hiss had her looking down. Nightfire's optics had narrowed at her father's hand; it was blocking her mother's spark! Squeaking in annoyance, she started to push at it.

"Hey runt, this was mine long before you came around." Ironhide rumbled. Removing his hand, he watched as Nightfire snuggled back in. The sparkling squeaked in contentment, curling up into a little ball. "Looks like we'll need to lay some ground rules here."

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" Chromia scolded. A growl from Ironhide was her only response, and the femme sighed as she allowed herself to settle back into that massive pillar of strength and heat. Ironhide responded with all the love he had in his spark, and the newly created family unit soon was sharing a quiet moment, looking at what would be the adventure of their life cycles.


	8. Property

AN: I hate hurricane season. I hate hurricane season. I hate hurricane season.

I hate living in Florida during hurricane season.

Anyway. Short and sweet chapter (due to me having a tropical storm on my bum), and then a family emergency came up. Guns will be posted between tommrow night and Friday morning (aka me trying to update before Hanna attacks).

Consider this a generalized chapter before the couple goodness starts up again.

* * *

**_Property_**

"I don't know if I approve of this." Elita purred coyly from her resting place on the berth she shared with Optimus.

"Stop lying femme." The Autobot leader rumbled.

"I'm not lying." Elita countered, rolling onto her back and lifting a leg up into the air. "Though I feel that I must point out, I would prefer my name."

"Well, I prefer this." Optimus said, examining an outline on one of his legs. "Besides. When everybody sees this, they'll know it's you." He shuttered his optics in bliss as a pair of hands slid around his waist, nimble fingers slipping under armor to the protoform beneath.

"Will they now?" Elita cooed. "I suppose so…but still, can't you add my name underneath it?"

"No. And nothing you can do or say can change my mind." Elita arched an optic ridge, a small smile crossing her faceplates.

"Oh really?" She whispered huskily. Her fingers went probing-resulting in a low moan from Optimus. "Now, what were we discussing again?"

* * *

Ratchet bit back the urge to cackle-especially considering who his patient was. But he couldn't help himself…he was only a 'bot after all.

"I must say, this is one of the most endearing things I've seen any mech do for the femme that owns him." He remarked. This earned him a dark glare from Ironhide.

"Shut up."

"No no. I mean it. This is just so…touching."

"Frag you." Ratchet grinned at the retort, giving Ironhide a cube full of Energon.

"Here, drink this. I don't want you screaming like a femmebot when I start cutting into your face." He said. The weapons specialist gave the cube a dirty look.

"I don't need any slagging painkillers."

"Drink it or else I'll be welding your interface panel shut." Ratchet countered. "And after that, your chest chassis." Then he started to cackle as the cube was yanked from his hand.

"You are a sick son of a glitch." Ironhide pronounced, starting to take several swallows of the medical Energon.

"Aren't we all?" The yellow mech replied. "Now, where did you want this again?" Ironhide took another swallow, and then tapped the right side of his face.

"Here."

"Since when did you start doing inscriptions?" Prowl asked from the nearby berth. The Autobot second-in-command was in recovery from the latest skirmish with the Decepticons.

"Since there isn't anyone around in Iacon who can do it properly." Ratchet answered, starting to trace an outline on Ironhide's faceplates. "And because we have crazy fraggers who want to try and impress the femmes who had pity on them and selected them as mates."

"Greetings." Came the low rumble of Optimus' voice. Ratchet cackled again, putting away his marking tools and activating his drill.

"And here's the leader of them all right now!"

* * *

Optimus threw Ratchet a mock glare as he sat down on a nearby berth.

"Hard at work I see." He rumbled.

"Silence, or when I start doing yours, I'm not giving you any painkillers." Ratchet snapped. To this Optimus wisely chose not to answer, instead boosting his left leg up onto the berth. Prowl tilted his head, noticing an outline of a very familiar femme stenciled in on the Autobot leader's lower leg armor.

"Well, that's one way of showing that you belong to her." He commented. Optimus grinned, glancing down at the design.

"I couldn't think of any words, so I figured a picture would be better." He said impishly. "Elita tried to change my mind but this is what I want…"

"Well, while you went for art, this one got poetic here." Ratchet commented as he started to drill into Ironhide's faceplates. Optimus raised an optic ridge.

"Really? What did you-"

"Eternal sonata." Ironhide growled. "And if you must know, it means that my spark has only one song now-hers." Both Optimus and Prowl blinked, completely taken aback by this eloquence…and from Ironhide of all mechs!

"…That is very meaningful." Prowl finally ventured after several breems had passed.

"Tell anyone and I will kill you." The black mech threatened.

"Oh thank Primus, he sounds normal again." Ratchet said dryly.

"Shut. Up."

* * *

AN: Optimus's inscription? Based on his now infamous mudflap of Elita in War Within. Too good to pass up!! And yes, Ironhide has a few glyphs on him too-zoom into his face when he speaks and you'll see them on his right side.


End file.
